Being Dauntless Isn't Easy
by LilyLemon12
Summary: This is set during initiation training, from Tris's POV. Four gives her an extra training session, and problems are highlighted. T for mild swearing. FourTris, not actually together yet but mild flirting, I guess you could call it, between our favourite couple EVER! (Trigger warning for eating disorders)
1. Chapter 1

**So, a little information. This takes place during initiation training, before Tris and Four are actually together. There's still little bits in here, but I wouldn't say any actual romance...yet. Just wait for the next chapters! As always, review and tell me what you think, as well as any ideas you might have. That's all folks!**

I walked out of the training room, chatting to Christina and Will about food and life back home, when I was tapped on the shoulder by someone. I whipped round, on my guard in case it was Peter, making another threat, or Molly, with another article about my parents, when I realised who it was and relaxed, in an odd way. I was relaxed in the sense that I was no longer panicked it was someone threatening or dangerous, but still on edge because it was Four. I told myself that I should be nervous because my instructor was about to speak to me after a training session, and not because it meant we would be in a room alone together. However, me scolding myself about the reason for my quick heartbeat did nothing to actually change the reason, just make me feel like I was blushing, which was a problem I needed to sort out. As I asked what was wrong, I put my hands to my face to try and cool my cheeks, therefore stopping the blush I knew was creeping up my face.  
"Just wait a second." he said, watching all the others file out until we were the only ones left. "Your throw is good, but you need to put your body into it." he started, but my confused face must have stopped him. Why was he telling me what was wrong with my throw now, as opposed to in the session when he was meant to. I asked him this, and he seemed to think, almost nervously, before slowly replying,  
"You're good at this. Too good. This means you're being singled out by others already, and my helping you will just make people single you out more. That's not what you want. So, I'm going to help you now instead." he explained, and I couldn't help but smile at the thought that went into his answer, and at the fact we would definitely be in a room alone for at least ten minutes. Again, I scolded myself, told myself that I should use this time wisely and help improve my performance more, to gain me a better position on the boards.

After half an hour, in which he placed his hands on my abdomen or shoulders five times, he concluded that we were done. Even though I was already tired from the original training session and was now even more tired from throwing myself at a punching bag in an effort to get it to move and chucking knives at the target, each time he touched me, lightly - to show me how to do something, it felt like somebody had fired electric shocks through my bloodstream. It made the area tingle, me blush, although I hoped it didn't show, and made me feel like I could go on for at least another fifteen minutes without getting tired. Finally, he decided we were done, and, at the end as I was walking out the room and he was holding the door open for me, he stopped me.  
"You're doing great." he said, the corners of his lips pulling up slightly, "You really deserve to be here, so keep working hard." And then, as we looked at each other, he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, the ear that he'd nicked on purpose. I felt myself freeze, and reminded myself to breathe. His hand also seemed to freeze, until he moved it again about five seconds later to touch the almost healed cut that he'd caused.  
"Sorry about that, again." he whispered, and walked out before I had time to say anything. Finally, I felt myself breathe normally again, although I couldn't stop replaying the moment again and again in my head as I walked back to the dorm.

As I strode into the dorm, Christina almost launched herself onto me, she was so eager to ask about what happened. I briefly explained that he'd given me a few extra minutes to sort out my throw, leaving out the part where he helped me fight as well, and the scene at the end. Bored with my mundane answer, she rolled her eyes and pulled out a roll of bread from her pocket.  
"I figured you'd need food after you missed dinner, but your answer was so boring I don't want to give it to you!" she laughed, and handed me the roll. I bit into it, then remembered something I'd realised in training this morning that I hadn't had a chance to ask her about at lunch, that I was suddenly reminded of when practicing with Four. Even though I thought of myself as a Dauntless, although I was still going through initiation, there were still some parts of me that definitely came from Abnegation, like my need for modesty. Although I hated to talk to her about it, I needed Christina's help.  
"Actually, there was something..." I nervously began, and she grinned widely in anticipation. "When I was training I noticed it, and I noticed it again earlier. I've never had an actual bra, just one of those fabric things. I was wondering if you could...help me?" She stared at me in disbelief, and muttered a surprised "what" under her breath before replying,  
"You've never had an actual bra? Just a training bra? Wow, Abnegation really is shit. Okay, take your top off." It was my turn to stare at her in disbelief, and I protested to stripping right there in the dorm where anyone could walk in. _Abnegation was not shit. _I thought, irritated at her berating my past faction, again. _Yes, it was backward, simplistic and boring, but not shit. You couldn't even lie in Candor, that's shit. _  
"Can we go somewhere else? What if someone walks in?" I protested, knowing that although they were at dinner, it wasn't impossible.  
Rolling her eyes, she agreed, and suggested the training rooms.

Once in there, she again told me to take my top off, which I did, and started measuring me. Although it was awkward, I was glad she was there, as it seemed complicated and I wasn't entirely sure I'd be able to do that myself, considering I had no idea what all the letters and numbers meant. _Thank God for Christina and her lack of boundaries. _I thought. When she'd finished telling me to stand up straight and muttering under her breath, she finally pronounced she was done.  
"I can't believe you've been through the past week without a bra! It must have been hell!" she sympathised, and I nodded. Suddenly, we heard footsteps coming towards the training room, and ducked behind a table. Relieved I was wearing black, as everyone does, I breathed a sigh of relief that we got behind the table in time as someone walked through the door. Christina, however, had an expression of terror on her face. She pointed towards something lying in the middle of the floor, and as I looked closer I could see it was a tampon. I gestured  
"What?" at her, and she nervously brushed her hair behind her ear before biting her lip and mouthing  
"It must have fallen out of my pocket!" All hope that whoever was in here wouldn't notice it was useless, as they slowly bent down to pick it up. My breath seemed to catch in my throat as I noticed who it was, Four. If he caught me in here, it would be even worse than if somebody else did. As he noticed what it was, he started muttering angrily to himself, under his breath.  
"This must be another one of Zeke's pranks. I swear to God, if I go out there and there's a trail of these leading to my room, I'm going to bloody kill him." With that, he stalked out the room, clearly shocked when there was nothing there. He just shook his head and left, leaving Christina and I to jump out from behind the table and go back to the dorm. Once there, we laughed about what had happened, but were very relieved we weren't caught.  
"Okay, now we know what size you are, we need to go and actually buy you some bras." She pronounced, and I sighed, knowing that with Christina it would take much longer than necessary.

By the next day, I'd been tortured enough to never want to go shopping with Christina again, as well as having about seven or eight bras, not knowing the full number, as I'd lost count by the fourth shop. We had another training session, this one with plain punching bags and mats to practice, and I could tell I was much better than the day before, most likely because of the extra help I'd had. At the end, Eric looked at me as we were all leaving and said  
"Stiff." I looked at him, stopping in the doorway, as people pushed past me in the rush to get to lunch. He beckoned towards me, and I slowly walked towards him, noticing Four stood in the corner, cleaning guns.  
"So, Stiff. I heard you had an extra training session yesterday, is that right?" he asked, in a deadly quiet voice. Not knowing what to do, I shook my head while thinking of what to say, and once I had an idea I replied,  
"No, it was just me practicing with the punching bags before dinner. There was no-one else there." He seemed to think for a moment too, then leaned closer to me and almost whispered,  
"Be careful, Stiff. I'm going to be watching you, very closely."


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay, new chapter! I'm on an updating rush at the moment! I updated my other story, Party: Dauntless Style, yesterday, and this today! What's it gonna be tomorrow? Review with any ideas, tips or comments! That's all folks! **

As we all work on the punching bags in the training session the next day, I notice Peter has slowly moved along the room until he's using the punching bag next to mine. He works silently, as do I, until finally he just stops and watches me punch, while I try my best to ignore him and just carry on. Eventually, he goes back to training and I let out a breath I didn't realise I was holding, until he mutters,  
"So, Stiff," I immediately tense up, sure he's going to attack me or start quoting some awful article, when he continues by saying,  
"You're actually getting pretty good. I mean, for a stiff." I'm taken aback, even with the added afterthought at the end, he actually complimented me. It feels kind of weird, but I mutter a thanks and keep training. It seems he doesn't take the hint though, because he continues talking.  
"So, do you do extra practice or something? I've done that, and yet somehow it doesn't help much. It's much more helpful if an instructor is there I suppose. You would know, wouldn't you?" I force myself to breath and stay calm, I'm already irritable as I'm hungry, even though I had breakfast less than two hours ago, and his comments aren't making it any better. Closing my eyes, I remind myself I need to just carry on and he'll ignore me, and once I open them I continue hitting the punching bag, channelling my anger into fighting.  
"I suppose you get that from the other stiffs, don't you? All of you are just lying, cheating bastards." I bite my lip as hard as I can and taste blood, but somehow still find it in me to try and tune him out and keep practicing. That is, until he says one more thing.  
"You're just like the rest of them, like your parents and Marcus and every other one. You just lie as much as you need to get what you want. Selfless, my ass." Suddenly, I can't stop myself, I lunge and I'm on top of him, kicking and hitting every surface I can find, trying to cause him as much pain as I can without knocking him out, because that would be too nice. I'm winning, and I smile as I punch some more. He swipes a few times at me, hitting me once in the jaw, but I barely feel it, I'm so caught up in trying to teach him a lesson. There are shouts behind me, whether they're incredulous, angry or joyful I can't tell, and I find it easy to ignore them as I keep hitting. A pair of arms grabs me round my abdomen, pulling me up and away from Peter, making me stand. Without turning to check who it is, I send my elbow into their stomach and kick Peter, who still lies in front of me, in clear pain, in the ribs. Only once I hear the grunt of pain do I realise who is holding me, Four. The arms don't loosen though, and I do everything I can to escape from them without hurting him. There's only one person I want to hurt, and they're lying on the floor in front of me. I aim another kick, this one at the leg he's been limping on for the past few days, and he let's out a cry of pain. This only spurs me on though, and I start thrashing around in Four's arms while trying to get a kick at every visible part of Peter's body, so every inch of him is bloody and bruised and filled with pain. Christina darts in front of me, grabbing my arms to try and stop me from moving around. It works, and I struggle to get free, until I twist my arm round just slightly so her hand is looser on my wrist, and then I pull it away. Before I can strike Peter again however, I see one of the Dauntless nurses come closer to me, saying comforting words that seem to threaten me, and I lash out at her, knocking her arm. A glass vial in a syringe almost falls to the floor and smashes, but she catches it at the last minute and jabs it into my neck before I can react.

**Four's POV**

"Wait, so she just lost it?" Zeke questions incredulously, raising his eyebrows and staring at her. I think about what happened, her blind fury and the fact as hard as we tried, no one could stop her, and I doubt she just lost it.  
"I don't think so. The anger, it was caused by something. A comment, or a look. It wasn't just her "losing it". But still, it was crazy. She just didn't stop kicking and punching, and she was yelling the whole time." I leave out the part that the noise she made was less like a yell and more like an animalistic noise of pain, and the reason I think she was provoked. Shauna wanders over, checks her pulse, her being a doctor in the hospital comes in handy, and comes to stand with us.  
"She's still out, but she should be waking up soon. I still can't believe they did this though." she reports. She's talking about what they did to Tris. They were meant to give her a dose of peace serum, that would calm her down, and take her to the hospital until it had worn off, but they didn't take her weight and height into account. The dose they gave her was so big, it knocked her out for four hours, and we're still counting.  
"So, exactly how over the top was the dose then?" Zeke asks, referencing to the fact Tris has been sedated for hours and we're still waiting for her to wake up.  
"Far too big. Even if she was at average weight for her height, she'd have been out for around two and a half hours. But like this, we could be waiting for another twenty minutes." At this, I start listening. Shauna's comment makes it sound like she's very, very underweight. I ask her about it, and she nods.  
"She _is_ underweight. Maybe she doesn't realise she needs to eat more than she did now she's doing this amount of exercise, which means she's eating far too little. Otherwise, she's purposefully not eating, because this is a big thing. She's not just slightly underweight, she's really underweight." Shauna starts, but before she can continue, Tris stirs.  
"Oh, I'm dizzy! Oh, oh, oh!" she giggles, as she tries to get out of bed, sways slightly and then falls backwards. As serious as the problem about her weight is, it's slightly funny watching her right now. She's now getting the effect that the peace serum should've had, rather than knocking her out. Nobody really knows what to call it, but that doesn't make it any less amusing to watch. As she hoists herself up using the side of the bed, she notices where she is and asks about it. I explain that something happened earlier today, she got tired and I brought her here, to my room, to sleep. An easier version of the story to swallow than the one where she beats someone up, absolutely loses it, is given an overdose on medicine which consequently sedated her, and I bring her here to sleep it off.  
"Oh thank you! That was really nice! And this room is really pretty, and the bed is really soft! Do you sleep there? You're so lucky that's your bed, it's so soft. You're really pretty, I like your hair. What's your name? Shauna is such a pretty name! It's really nice. My name's Tris. Do you like my name Shauna?" she rambles, touching and hugging Shauna as she speaks to her, and giving me a hug when she thanks me for letting her sleep here. Even though she's basically drunk and has no idea what she's doing, the feeling of her arms around me as the smell of her hair envelopes me makes me feel dizzy. But as I remind myself that she's a student of mine, I wish that wasn't all she was.


	3. Chapter 3

**TWO UPDATES IN ONE WEEKEND! Go me! To be fair, they're updates on different stories, but everyone knows how hard it is to update regularly. So, here we are. Admittedly, I have about four pieces of homework waiting and a test to study for, but you guys are more important. Plus, studying is boring, writing is not. Anyway, review with random comments, encouragement, ideas for the next chapter, requests or tips! That's all folks! **

**TRIS POV**

I'm so tired, and so, so hungry. We've been training, although Peter's been placed on the other side of the room to me because of my manic outburst the other day, which meant I had to be sedated and he, the moron who provoked me, is covered in bruises and limping. He's left me alone though, probably because he knows what I can do. Four dawdles over towards me and tips his head towards the door, signalling he wants to talk to me. Sighing, I follow him outside and fold my arms over my chest, irritated he's taken me away from practice.  
"Are you okay?" he asks me, concern in his eyes. Even though he's being nice, I feel even more annoyed because I don't need to be protected, and besides, his concern about me makes me even more guilty about the large purple bruise on the side of his jaw that I caused when he was just trying to restrain me. Rolling my eyes, I start to walk away, but stop when I feel slightly dizzy, and lean up against the wall to support me. I immediately regret my decision when he comes over, asking me again if I'm okay, when all I want to do right now is lie down, and because I can't do that, train. But all that is forgotten when I feel even dizzier and, a moment later, collapse.

**FOUR POV**

Once again, she's unconscious. This time, however, she's in the hospital, not my room, and the reason she's unconscious isn't because she's been sedated, it's because she hasn't been eating. The nurse comes over, and I stop myself from snapping at her when she deals with pleasantries rather than telling me what's wrong, reminding myself that she's just trying to do her job. Still though, I wish she could hurry up. Finally she tells me all that she knows, which isn't much. Tris hasn't been eating, so she blacked out, but she should be coming around now. When she wakes up, I'm not allowed to speak to her until the nurse has, and even then, I'm not allowed to ask the question that's been preying on my mind for ages now. Why hasn't she been eating?

Finally the nurse is done talking to her, and I drift into the room, hovering by the open door. She mumbles something about her being okay, and in spite of it all, I chuckle. She's okay, any yet she's lying in a hospital bed after passing out. She's stupidly brave, and bravely stupid.  
"You're still not going back to training today though." I tell her, and she groans, hoisting herself up in her bed so she's sitting.  
"Why, I'm fine." she answers, and I simply gesture towards her. "Okay, fine, no training today. But just so you know, this isn't my fault. I...I have been eating. The nurse told me what happened. She thinks I have some kind of condition. I don't, I'm fine." she says, determinedly staring at me. I process her anger, and it seems like she's telling the truth. But if she were, then she wouldn't have passed out.  
"Well then why are you here? If you were eating, you'd be fine. Surely you get hungry, or something. Don't lie." She just shakes her head, refusing to look at me.  
"So you don't believe me either. Nobody does. Everyone thinks there's something wrong with me, but there isn't. It's a one off."  
"The reason you were knocked out by the peace serum was because you're so light for your height, okay? So it isn't a one off. What's going on?" Again, she averts her gaze so she's staring at the wall, rather than me. She says she's fine again, that nobody believes her, and I feel guilty. I want to believe her, tell her it's going to be okay, tell her that people will realise she's telling the truth, but even I don't know if she's telling the truth. I mutter something about needing to be somewhere, and walk out.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm back! The story is back! So, I had some help from "Aviewthroughmyeyes" with this chapter's ideas, so thanks! I'm not sure how many people are reading this fic, but I just wanna say thanks. Your reviews mean so much, and although I haven't written many chapters and there aren't loads of reviews or follows, I'm happy with the small fanbase I have. So thanks to all of you, but especially Aviewthroughmyeyes. This may sound like some kind of goodbye A/N, but I can promise you it's not, I'm just feeling super proud of myself right now. Anyway, reviews are greatly appreciated and do inspire me to write faster, so please leave a review! That's all folks! **

TRIS POV

After about ten minutes, he comes back in and leans against the wall.  
"Don't lie. Why are you doing this? Purposeful or not, you're doing something to yourself. Why?" he asks, finally looking up at me. I close my eyes, take a deep breath and start talking.  
"It wasn't purposeful at first. I just ate the same amount I would back in Abnegation, forgetting that I was doing way more exercise. But then everything got so much harder. I couldn't control my rank, my simulations, my nightmares, my anything. But if I ate less, I gained less weight. I could finally have some control over one aspect of my life. And it felt so good to be in control. So, I just kept doing it. Manipulating what I ate because I could. It wasn't about getting thinner. It never was. It was about being in control." Eventually, after many pauses where I stare down at my hands or swallow, I finish talking, and glance up to find him looking straight back at me. Instead of looking away again, I hold his gaze.  
"Do you want to die?" he asks, and when I don't answers, he puts his hands up to his temples and breathes deeply. It's not that I want to die. But I can't stop. And honestly, with life this complicated and hard, would it even be that bad if- yes, it would. I can't just die.  
"You have friends. You have a home. You're doing amazingly at the simulations. And yet you want to die? You want to throw all that away?" he interrupts my thoughts, getting angrier by the second.  
"You'll only live once, even be sixteen once, and you want to spend it counting out calories just because you can? What kind of life is that, and why would you want that? If you don't start eating again, you will die. And you can't die. I don't care how much you hate life, you can't kill yourself like this. You want to die weak and hungry at sixteen? Who'd tell your parents? Your friends? Who'd find you? Me. And I'm not having you die like that on my watch. So you're gonna start eating, and I'm gonna help you. Cause I'm not letting you die." When he finishes, he leans against the wall and runs his hand through his hair, sighing.  
"I want to eat. I really do. I don't want to die. But wouldn't it just be easier?" I whisper, and jump when he bangs his fist against the wall.  
"No. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Kill. Yourself." he answers, so quietly I can barely hear him. But the almost silent tone is anything but calm, instead conveying more anger than shouting could. I can't help it, and feel a small tear sliding down my face, and scold myself for it, not wanting to show any more weakness.  
"Look, I just don't want you to die. And thinking of you throwing yourself away like this, well, it's not the happiest thing ever."  
"I know. I don't want to throw myself away like this either. But I can't seem to help saying things like that." Slowly, I climb out of the bed and tiptoe towards him until I'm sure I'm so close he can hear my heart hammering. Just as slowly, I stretch out my hand until my finger scrapes the back of his hand. He jumps, as if shocked, and I smile to myself, thinking that there are things to stay alive for. I finish the gesture, wrapping my fingers around his, while I hold back a smile so wide it could crack my face open. Eventually, I pull away and walk back to my bed, where I perch on the edge as he walks out, so slowly it's like he's dreaming.

Three days later, and I'm back in normal life, lying to everyone about why I was gone. My version, I had the flu so bad that they wouldn't let me leave for fear I'd infect the whole of Dauntless. People laugh when I tell them, at the thought of someone as small as me bringing the whole faction down with the flu, pat my shoulder and tell me they're happy I'm back, it was too quiet without me. I smile at the comments, and freeze that smile in place when we walk into the canteen, ready to eat. _You can do this. You took out Molly and Peter, you can eat some food. _I sit down, pull some food onto my plate and bring the first bite to mouth, continuing to do so almost robotically for the next twenty minutes. I excuse myself, and rush out of the hall, kneeling down outside, pushing back the urge to throw up.  
"I thought I'd find you here." A voice says, and when I look up, Four is standing over me, offering me a hand. After pulling me up, he looks me in the eye and asks,  
"Have you thrown it up?", his voice stern. I roll my eyes and shake my head, secretly happy he's helping me, but irritated I need his help in the first place. His mouth quirks up slightly.  
"Good. Just...just keep going. You can do it." Before he vanishes, I notice the pink tinge in his cheeks, something that looks exactly like blushing, but can't be. And then I glance down, and see our hands are still connected and we're less than ten inches away from each other. I blush too, and then he vanishes, off to join others in the canteen. _See, you can definitely do it. _A voice in my head says proudly, and I can't disagree, because I know that I can and I will do this. Even if it's the hardest thing I've done, I'll do it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Not only have I never updated a fic this much, I've never gotten such a positive reaction from one. I was reading your reviews about an hour ago, and I was literally crying because I was so happy people like my writing. Writing has been something that I don't really share with anyone, both out of fear that it won't be any good, and because it's nice having something special and secret. It was a big step when I got an account on here about six months ago, and I'm so happy people actually think my writing is worth reading. It's a great community on here, with such kind people helping writers, and so many talented writers, and I'm so happy to be part of this community, because it's supportive and kind and a great experience. When I read your reviews I was so motivated that I immediately fired up my playlist and opened a new document and started typing, because I desperately wanted to write. If any of you want my writing playlist, I'll give it in the next chapter. So thanks for the support, I love you guys so much even if I don't know you, because you don't have to know someone to know they're lovely.**

**Anyway, read and review with suggestions, ideas, comments or random stuff. That's all folks! (Although "folks" I'll admit this A/N was pretty long)**

Later that night, as I'm falling asleep in the dorms, or trying to, I can't help thinking about him. I've never struggled to sleep before. but now I can barely close my eyes because of how he makes me feel. _I'm such a cliché, I'm losing sleep over a boy. _I laugh to myself, my own secret joke. But then my mind flickers back to something less happy. I suddenly wish I hadn't eaten so much at dinner, even though I tell myself it was still less than everyone else was eating then, I run out the dorms, and after I realise I have no idea where the closest bathroom is, I dash towards the chasm, kneel down in front of it and am about to shove my fingers down my throat when I feel a hand grab me. About to scream, I notice it's Four and fold my arms over my chest, glaring at him, but quickly stop looking so angry when I see his face, because he's furious. He doesn't speak, just grabs my hands and pulls me towards his apartment, and though I would complain that he's hurting my wrist, I don't dare speak. Finally, he speaks, but still refuses to look me in the eye.  
"What the fuck?" he yells, and I know that what I said earlier about his whisper being more furious and scary and conveying more emotion than a shout ever could is wrong, because right now I'm so terrified of him, no, not him, but his anger, that I'm literally paralysed with fear.  
"You said that you were gonna try! I knew you weren't better, but I thought you would at least try! You...you...I can't even look at you. What the fuck? You were gonna lob yourself over the goddamn chasm! We talked three days ago, and you said you would try!" At this, my mouth gapes open, and I realise what he thinks I was doing. He thinks I was going to throw myself over the side, to try and kill myself. He doesn't realise that I was about to make myself puke, to empty my stomach from all food, not try and die. I was just using the chasm because there were no bathrooms nearby, but of course he doesn't know that.  
"I-I wasn't going to throw myself over the edge." I stutter.  
"What on Earth were you doing there then?" he demands, and I mutter,  
"I was going to make myself throw up. When you came, I was already shoving my fingers down my throat. I just couldn't find the bathrooms, so I went there instead. I didn't think anyone was going to be there."  
"Oh thank God. But just because you weren't going to kill yourself doesn't mean I'm forgiving you. Thank goodness I was there, or you would have puked your guts up. Again. I saw you this morning, don't try to deny it." I stare down at my feet, ashamed I'm so weak that I can't keep from trying to get rid of any food in my body for a day.  
"Listen," he continues, gentler now, "I'm angry, but I know it's hard for you." At this, I lose it. I know it's not his fault, but I'm so angry with everyone, with the world, and right now he's the only one who I can direct my anger to.  
"You don't get it! Okay, you don't get it! Nobody does! Nobody is such a loser, a weak, sad, skinny loser that they can't keep from shoving their fingers down their throat for five minutes. How do you think that makes me feel, being like this? So helpless. I want to eat, but even if I do stomach the food to keep up appearances, and because I'm just trying to get better, I just go and throw it up later. I don't even want to call it getting better. I don't want to feel sick, or broken, or not right, or depressed. I'm not. It's just a bump in the road, I know, but it's feeling pretty insurmountable at the moment!" I scream, tears streaming down my face and my hands balled into fists by my side. He sees this, and passes me something. A glass. I look at him, and am about to punch him, when I see what he's doing. He's giving me a chance to break something, so I don't feel like the only broken thing, a chance to release my anger. I grab the glass, scream, and throw it against the wall, where it smashes into at least twenty pieces, and suddenly the anger is gone, and the only thing left is sadness. I drop to my knees, and feel my head sink into my hands.

The strong anger, which was filled with hurt and tears, has vanished and left me with just the hurt, and the tears, and the hopelessness, which I was trying to ignore. But now it seems impossible to ignore, like an enormous signpost right in front of my face, screaming at me to cry and be sad because there's nothing I can do. So I cry, and I wail, and I choke on my own tears. And even though this makes me feel even more hopeless because the only thing that can fix me is crumpling on the floor and screaming through the tears like a wounded animal, it makes me feel better. I beat the floor with my fists and wipe my tears on my sleeve a thousand times, getting it soaking wet, but I don't care. And then an arm snakes around my middle, and a comforting voice is whispering in my ear, saying it's okay, and he's here, and I just need to let it all out, and I do. I'm not even embarrassed as I sob into his chest and wail about being broken, and unfixable, and how nobody will ever want or need or like somebody who's as broken as me, and I don't care about the consequences of breaking down while embraced by my instructor, because right now there's nobody else I can tell, and even if there were, I wouldn't want to cry while embraced by them. Even in the horror of the moment, my grief stricken half hour of my own failings and tears, I can't help feeling like the person holding me is so, so perfect, even if I'm not.

The next day, I wake up in the same position on the floor, wrapped in Four's arms. It seems that my breakdown left us so tired that we actually fell asleep on the floor. I yawn, stretching out my arms as I do, and accidentally wake the person who held me while I cried. Four. With no discussion about what happened last night, we make our way to the dining hall in the same clothes as yesterday, not bothered by any looks we may get, and I don't even look in the mirror as I go, knowing I'll just be confronted by bags under my eyes for staying up so late. We even walk in together, not making any effort to stagger our entrances because we're so tired.  
"Where were you this morning?" Chris asks, and I mutter something about waking up early and going to train, while staring down a piece of toast that I desperately want to eat, but can't. Ignoring my inner complaints, I grab it and smear a sticky, red substance that everyone else seems to be having over the top of it, and promise myself that today I'll eat and not puke, and from the other side of the table I see Four encouragingly smile at me, making me want to do this even more.


	6. Chapter 6

**The chapter's a little shorter, but you're going to get a good one next time! Anyway, for those who are interested, my writing playlist is at the end! As always, read and review with comments, suggestions, ideas or random stuff. That's all folks! **

TRIS POV

I'm wandering around the halls aimlessly at about five in the morning before anyone has woken up, when I notice Four standing at the end of the corridor. When I get there, I keep walking after a short "hi" and, surprisingly, he starts walking too, keeping pace with me.  
"How's it going?" he questions, and I know he means something more specific than just how I'm doing. I shrug, and he keeps talking,  
"If you have any news tell me. Because as far as I can tell, I'm the only one who knows about this?" Even though it's a sentence, he puts it like a question, and stops for clarification. I mumble a quick yes and see him smirk slightly, although his face becomes straight again soon after.  
"So I need to know. Okay?"  
"Actually, there is something. Today marks two days since I've skipped a meal or thrown up!" I grin, and although it's a small step, my face feels like it's going to crack open, my smile is so wide. He turns round at stares at me, his face splitting into a smile as well.  
"Tell you what, if you can make it to this evening, I'll take you to do something 'dangerous'." he says, the word dangerous being accentuated and having jazz hands. I clap, and giggle slightly, giddy with my success and the thought of being alone for an adventure with him.

"What?!" Christina gawps, squealing and causing many people in the Pit to stare at us. We've just finished training, and although I'm tired, I'm also feeling so happy, so happy that I feel endless, infinite. We dance through the Pit, and although people stare, I can't help but smile and do it anyway. For some reason, it feels like a perfect day, like nothing could go wrong, and Chris doesn't need any excuse to go wild. I know we have an hour and a half, so I suggest going into the woods with some rope and setting up swings across the trees, and she doesn't need me to say it again.  
"Wait, I just need to go to the bathroom. I'll see you out there?" she says, and sprints off. I dawdle out, staring at the ceiling while so many thoughts swim around my head, making it impossible to see for the castles I have in the sky. Being a leader, being happy, coming first in the initiate class, eating properly again without even trying, having a family. As I dance out the door, I feel an arm grab me.  
"Where are you going?" Four asks suspiciously.  
"To make rope swings!" I tell him with glee, and he looks relieved.  
"Not going to try hang yourself then. Good. Anyone going with you?" he questions, and I sigh at his overprotectiveness, but tell him Chris is coming, just that she's in the bathroom. At that moment, she runs out, and Four starts walking away as if we didn't even notice each other.  
"Let's go!" she exclaims impatiently, and I willingly run along too.

That afternoon, after coming back from an afternoon which included consistently falling out of trees after Chris insisted that it was "100% safe and secure" and throwing myself at a punching bag in an effort to get it to move an inch, which it did, every once in a while, at the end, after Four had shown me how to do it again, I skip dinner. I don't want to, but it's as if there's some kind of voice telling me that I shouldn't, I don't need to, why don't I go train some more instead, after all, I'm still struggling with the punching bags, and extra practice couldn't hurt. There's another voice, almost a whisper, saying that I should eat, I need to survive, two half meals isn't enough with all this exercise, the extra practice will hurt if I'm skipping meals to do it. But that voice is drowned out by the other one, so I head to the training rooms. Fifteen minutes in, I hear footsteps and whip around, but relax when I realise who it is. Four. I grin without realising it, and the corners of his mouth turn up slightly, until he checks his watch, and his face becomes serious again.  
"Aren't you meant to be eating right now?" he questions, and I nod ashamedly, scratching the back of my head. He takes a step closer inadvertently, and looks at me without anger or blame.  
"It's not your fault. It's going to be hard. That's why...well, I've been thinking about it, about this, and it's not fair to expect you to just cure yourself. No matter how hard you try, you simply can't. You're not...well, you're not superhuman. So, that's why I was thinking we should involve a professional. It will be someone you trust, and I'll be there with you at all times. I'm not just sending you in there alone."

FOUR POV  
After I present the idea, she just stands there, unmoving. I wait a minute, and cautiously take a step towards her and softly say her name.  
"Mm hm." she replies, clearly slightly out of it.  
"Are you okay?" I ask, and she nods, then explains,  
"It's just...it's dawning on me that this isn't something I can just will away and it will vanish. This is a bigger deal. This isn't just fixable." I take another step, and place my hand on her shoulder in what I hope is a comforting gesture. She stiffens, but quickly relaxes and almost leans on my arm.  
"Who?" she questions, after a while, and I stare at her, confused. "You said it would be someone I trust." I nod, understanding what she means, overjoyed that she seems to be cooperating.  
"You know Shauna? Well, she's a nurse. She could help, see what we need to do. I trust her, I think you do too, and I won't leave your side. At all." She blushes slightly, and I notice how short the distance is between us. Nodding slightly, she walks out, calling that she's going to the dorms, and I stand with an idiotic grin on my face, happy not only that she agreed, but because of our touch. God, I really do have a thing for her.

**So, my playlist. Comment if you like any of these songs!  
Seventeen - Alessia Cara  
Tee Shirt - Birdy  
Wings - Birdy  
We'll Be the Stars - Sabrina Carpenter  
Burn - Ellie Goulding  
Scars to Your Beautiful - Alessia Cara  
Can't Blame a Girl for Trying - Sabrina Carpenter  
Until next time, that's all folks! xx  
**


	7. Chapter 7

**Right guys, sorry for suuuuuuch a long time without an update, I feel like a terrible person, I really do! I mean, it's only been two weeks, but I was planning on updating later that week. But I've got loads of stories going at the moment (go check them out, Dauntless With A Daughter, Party: Dauntless Style) and it's been a busy fortnite. Anyway, enough excuses, read and review with comments, questions, suggestions or random stuff. That's all folks! **

FOUR

I sit in the doctor's room with Tris next to me and Shauna perched on the edge of her desk, trying as hard as she can to relax Tris. I can tell it's not working, because for the last five minutes her grip on my hand has only tightened, and I feel sure that it's cutting off my circulation, but I don't say anything to Tris.  
"How long has this been going on for?" Shauna asks, and I watch Tris as she calculates it in her head, scratching her nose with her free hand as she mutters,  
"Eight weeks. I guess." Shauna nods, then writes something down and beckons for Tris to stand up.  
"I'm gonna need to measure your waist and weigh you, okay?" Tris gives a tight nod and stands still as a statue as Shauna pulls the tape measure around her waist, then takes a small step onto the scale so she can weigh her. I can tell it's making her uncomfortable, anybody would be able to see that, but I know it's going to hopefully help her get better. Shauna looks concerned, no not concerned, just confused, I'm the one who's concerned, and presses down on Tris's stomach. We, Tris and I, are both confused as to what is going on, but neither of us break the tense silence by asking. Finally, Shauna does it for us, saying,  
"There's something...there. It could just be muscle, but it could be something else. I'm going to need you to take off your top so I can take a closer look, okay?" She addresses Tris, but I can see her peering out of the corner of her eye at me, wondering what I'm going to do, and I whisper to Tris,  
"I can go, if you want." In response, she grabs my hand and shouts,  
"No!" It's a frantic gesture, and I ease my hand away from her grasp and mutter,  
"It's fine, Tris. If you're going to be uncomfortable…" and trail off, unsure what to say. She shakes her head, refraining from gripping my hand or shouting.  
"Just turn around. I need you here. Please?" she suggests, looking desperately at me. As an answer, I turn around in my seat so I'm facing the wall and hear rustling, which I presume is Tris taking off her shirt, and then a gasp, which I presume is her response to the cold hands of Shauna on her stomach. I want to turn around to see what's going on and also, which I hate to admit because it makes me sound creepy and perverted, see Tris without a shirt on. I banish the thought quickly though, knowing she trusts me and that it would be against her wishes and disrespectful to even think about it. Finally, I hear Shauna say,  
"Right, I'm slightly more certain it's muscle, but I want to ask you some more questions to be sure. Pop your shirt on and sit down." I hear another rustle, then Tris taps me on the shoulder and I turn around to see her looking pale and scared. She grabs my hand and even though I know it's because she's nervous, I imagine it's purely because she wants to hold my hand, but the thought makes me even more nervous than she looks, so I banish that as well.  
"You may not want him here," Shauna warns, "They're quite personal." She speaks like I'm not here, and Tris answers in the same manner, as if I weren't even in the room.  
"No, he can stay." Shauna simply nods in response, then looks through her notepad and asks,  
"When was your last period?" Tris doesn't look at me, but I feel the grip on my hand involuntarily tighten with nerves, then become more loose than it was before as a blush rises to her cheeks and she looks to the sky, partly to count and partly to avoid eye contact with me.  
"Erm, five, six weeks ago." she mumbles quietly, staring anywhere but me, but I can't say the gesture upsets me, because if she were to look at me, I'm not sure what I would do. Instead, I squeeze her hand quickly to let her know I'm here for her, hoping it makes her feel less awkward, although I'm definitely the same.

"Right," Shauna begins, noting something down as she speaks, "That could be due to malnutrition, it happens a lot if you don't get the nutrients you need. But, just in case, and this will hopefully be my last "just in case question"" She makes air quotes on the last bit as she speaks, "Have you ever slept with someone, Tris?" Tris refuses to look at me again, or at Shauna, and sits in the chair for a minute, not speaking, and Shauna reiterates,  
"Tris, have you ever had sex?"  
"I knew what you meant! And, no." she protests, staring at the ceiling. "Why?"  
"Well, sometimes pregnancy can cause people to go off their food easily. I've no doubt this is an eating disorder, but not only can hormones sometimes intensify these things, but I felt something in your stomach that could be something to do with pregnancy. It was just muscle, which is unusual because of the eating disorder. It was incredibly unlikely, but I wanted to be sure." She explains, and Tris looks confused, then slightly angry.  
"Are you saying that my eating disorder isn't real? Are you saying you thought it was just caused by hormones?" She cries, and I squeeze her hand in an effort to calm her down.  
"No," Shauna says, "I'm just saying that is was a possibility and I wanted to be sure. But your disorder is definitely real, and not just caused by hormones." Tris nods slightly and stares down at her hands as she apologises for shouting.  
"There's not much I can do to help," Shauna says, "because this needs to go to a mental health professional. But I can tell you that you do indeed have an eating disorder, and you're suffering from severe malnutrition, so you need to eat more. Take this pamphlet about therapists and counsellors in Dauntless." As she speaks, she rifles through a cabinet at her desk and pulls out a number of pamphlets, then leafs through them until she finds the one she wants and passes it to Tris, who starts reading is as we walk out the door, but shoves it in her pocket as soon as we leave the hospital, where random people are walking around, so nobody sees it.  
"So, how do you feel?" I venture nervously, hoping she's okay.  
"Yeah, I'm fine. I just, I don't wanna see a therapist or counsellor or whatever. I just want to keep it secret. And I know I can't because I need help, but, well, it's bad enough having this, I don't want everyone else to know about it. It's stupid, I just, I don't want to seem weak, or whatever." I can tell she's nervous because she keeps adding sentence fillers instead of saying what she wants to say, so I twist her round to look at me and say,  
"Hey, you're not weak. Don't think that. Just because you have this one issue, doesn't mean you're weak." She stares gratefully up at me with a small smile, and I notice we're somewhere less crowded, so much so that there's nobody here, and imagine kissing her right at this moment. But I look down at our hands, so close to each other, and take a risk, pulling her smaller one into mine and intertwining our fingers together. I feel her tense up for a moment and I'm worried I've messed up, made it awkward between us, but then she runs her thumb along my hand and my worries melt away. I understand the reason people want to hold hands, or I do now, because all I want to do, every second of the day, is to touch her. Hold her hand, run my fingers through her hair, swipe my hand across her shoulder like I do when I'm correcting her stance in training. She looks up at me again, whispering,  
"Sorry about that awful hand hold in there." and scratches her nose, while I grin at her, giddy with whatever this is called, love, I guess, and say,  
"It was practice for the real thing," At this, she giggles, and I imagine that she's also giddy with love, but I doubt that's the case. Could she really be in love with me?


End file.
